


Christmas Countdown 2017

by eagle_feather_2014



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Childhood Memories, Christmas, Christmas Cookies, Fluff, Hot Chocolate, Mistletoe, Multi, Secret Santa, Snow Angels, Snowball Fight
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-01
Updated: 2017-12-11
Packaged: 2019-02-09 04:28:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 5,506
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12880182
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eagle_feather_2014/pseuds/eagle_feather_2014
Summary: A series of daily oneshots counting down to Christmas.





	1. Mistletoe Story 1: Eren/Levi

He knew that this would happen. That damn brat had planned this. “Let me do the Christmas decorations this year, Levi! Take a day to relax!” What a sly move, pretending to be concerned that his lover was too overworked and needed a break when _really_ he just wanted to boobytrap the house with mistletoe. He would be impressed if it wasn’t so annoying. Eren had outsmarted him, and that was impressive, but the constant popping up and pointing out a mistletoe that had appeared out of thin air was driving him nuts.   
He loved Eren, truly, but this constant attention and asking for kisses was obnoxious. Eren was a loving kind of guy that was hard to stay mad at, because he just loved to be affectionate and doting, the only issue with that was the fact that _Levi_ didn’t do all that touchy-feely romance. He liked sitting together and lying together watching a movie, the kiss goodbye on the way out the door or after Eren said something loving, but in general, he just didn’t like all the physical contact and sickeningly saccharine nicknames and love-talk. He just didn’t, but _Eren_ fed off that kind of relationship. He _craves_ that teenage love story romance. He adored holding hands, walking with an arm around his lover, and constantly peppering his darling in sweet little affectionate kisses.  
Levi usually felt bad that Eren was so starved for affection all the time, but these constant “mistletoe kisses” were starting to piss him off. Again, he loved Eren with all his heart, but goddammit these random kiss attacks were getting on his last nerve.   
“Levi,” Eren cooed as he walked up behind him in the kitchen doorway. Levi turned and looked at him before looking up and seeing that cursed plant hanging above him in it’s stupid jolly red bow. That’s it. “You know the rule, babe!”  
“No,” he growled and walked over to grab the step stool so he could tear the dumb thing down. “I’m done!” He climbed up the steps of the stool and yanked the clump of leaves down, snapping the string and tossing it to the floor. “These stupid plants are fucking everywhere and I can’t walk from the couch to the bathroom without you forcing me to kiss you seven different times!” The little bundle smacked to the ground with a slap, and Eren took a step back, hurt. He had put so much effort into making this the most loving and romantic Christmas they’d had since the’d moved in together and here Levi was, yelling at him and upset.   
“Levi,” he breathed.   
“ _No!_ ” He was fuming, and he knew he shouldn’t be getting this upset, but their peace had been thrown off by this stupid mistletoe game, and he just couldn’t handle the oppression anymore. “This is _ridiculous_ , Eren! I can’t walk halfway through a room without you suddenly jumping me for a kiss! I love you, you know that, right?!” Eren took a hesitant breath and nodded. “Then _why_ are you hounding me for attention with this desperate game?”   
“I thought it would be romantic,” he admitted. Levi sighed and stepped off the step stool. Eren had a guilty look on his face and seemed absolutely devastated by Levi’s outburst.   
“Eren,” he sighed. “You know me. This isn’t my idea of romantic, it’s _stressful_ not knowing when you’ll suddenly come attack me for a kiss. Couldn’t we just cuddle and marathon some movies with hot chocolate instead?”   
“Yeah,” he replied, picking the mistletoe up off the ground. He’d put so much effort into something that just achieved the opposite of his goal. It was heartbreaking. He sighed. “We can do that instead,” he said sweetly. Levi smiled and took his hand holding the mistletoe and raising it above their heads, pulling him down gently for a forgiving kiss. Eren had tried to be romantic, and for Levi the thought really is what counts in their relationship. He had tried and failed, but that didn’t mean Levi couldn’t give him what he wanted just this once.   
The kiss was short, sweet, and entirely gentle and emotional. _”I love you,”_ and _”I forgive you”_ it said. It took all that pain and disappointment that Eren felt swelling in his chest and eased it into a peaceful affectionate sea of love for his boyfriend. He held the mistletoe up and hugged Levi around the waist as they kissed, his cheeks cupped in Levi’s gentle hands as they slid their lips together in a caring connection. “I love you, Eren, but you’re such an overachieving dork.”  
“I love you, too, Levi. Now,” he hummed as he held his smaller lover close, “what movie are we going to start with?” A soft laugh escaped Levi’s mouth with a small smile on his lips. That’s what he had fallen in love with. He adored Levi and all the little ways he was loving and beautiful. He was rough and less touchy-feely, but he cared and gave Eren the attention he needed when it mattered most, and that’s what really mattered, not some dumb tradition to kiss under a silly leaf bundle. Yes, he wanted a closer, more romantic relationship, but hounding and harassing Levi without saying what he wants is not the way to make this holiday memorable. In the morning, he would take the masses of mistletoe down… _Most_ of it anyways. He had to have his fun somehow; Levi’s wrath be damned!


	2. Mistletoe Story 2: Sasha/Connie

There was always too much to do during the winter holidays. There was cooking, cleaning, decorating, baking, singing, movies to watch, ugly sweaters to make, snowball fights, wrapping presents, and all that wasn’t even a dent in the list! Her gifts to him were wrapped already… except that stupid package from Connie’s favorite sportswear company that had yet to arrive because the company had a stupid _”no weekend deliveries”_ policy. Connie had already gotten into one of her gifts to him by virtue of being the one home when it arrived in the mail. Why couldn’t he have just left the box from Barnes and Noble alone? Why did he have to ruin the surprise that she had ordered him the entire Harry Potter series in hardback for Christmas? She was going to record his reaction and everything! There was going to be a Hufflepuff robe and stuffed owl in with them and a pair of tickets to Universal Studios for two days for them to run around the Wizarding World of Harry Potter and be the kids they are, but _nooo_ Connie just had to be a nosy little shit and ruin it! Ugh. So ungrateful.   
She smiled as she brought the mail in from the street, flipping through the letters, pulling out some colorful envelopes with their names on it. Their friends all sent each other christmas cards, and Sasha’s family had the tradition to decorate the tree with that year’s Christmas cards and popcorn garland, and she always stuck a Rudolph stuffed animal on the top of the tree instead of a star to go with their silly little tree’s theme of festive silliness.   
“Connie! Jean and Marco sent their card!” She heard some noise in the kitchen and a cheer in response. He was probably raiding the fridge or pantry. “I’m going to make dinner in like a half hour, get your butt out of that kitchen,” she scolded as she opened the cards and walked over to the Christmas tree, already adorned with cute seasonal photos of Hanji and Erwin, Ymir and Christa, and Armin and Annie so far. Jean had his arm around a blushing Marco, an old santa hat on and a candy cane in hand as Marco held the camera out in front of them. It was another cute picture of the two, and it would fit right in on the tree.   
“But I’m hungry, babe!” She huffed and shook her head.   
“Suck it up, buttercup! You’ll spoil your appetite!” She gently placed the card on the tree and positioned it so the picture was visible along with the sweet little message on the side written in Marco’s neat penmanship.   
“But Saaaaash,” he groaned and moved into the kitchen doorway to whine. She looked over and rolled her eyes. “I’m huuungryyy.” He leaned against the doorframe and dramatically slumped and groaned. What a punk. She _said_ that she’d start dinner soon, and it’s not like she starves him! She always cooks too damn much, not too little; there was never a shortage of food in their house. She just didn’t want him to make a meal of leftovers right before she made dinner, was that really so bad?  
Above the buzz shaved boy was a conspicuous little bundle of green and red, and it gave her a mischievous grin, one that made him question what the hell was about to happen. Most people didn’t know that Sasha was the motherfucking _queen_ of tackle football in highschool, and she could run like a cheetah then hit you like a ton of bricks to knock your ass flat on the floor below her, and about half the time she was able to stay standing after the collision instead of going down with her victim. Her tackles were legendary, and Connie was in her line of sight.   
She grinned and tossed the rest of the letters onto the couch and charged her somewhat suspecting boyfriend. “Mistletoe,” she yelled happily, and as she collided with him, arms hugging him and weight tossing them to the floor, he gave a startled laugh. He was knocked onto his back with Sasha in his lap, giggling and peppering his face with adoring little mistletoe kisses. He couldn’t help but laugh and hug her close, flipping them on the floor, and returning all the little rapid smooches to her face.


	3. Mistletoe Story 3: Jean/Marco

“Just hear those sleigh bells jingle-ing ring ting tingle-ing too. Come on, it's lovely weather for a sleigh ride together with you,” he sang happily, swaying his hips back and forth to the music as he hung the usual ornaments on the tree. Jean was off somewhere in the house doing something or other to prepare for Marco’s parents coming to visit for the holiday. He hummed happily along to the music channel they had playing on the tv as they worked. He always loved this time of year; it was just so festive and happy. The world felt like the good, friendly place he knew it really was. “Outside the snow is falling and friends are calling-“  
“Yoo-hoo,” Jean cut in with a singsong voice. Marco whipped his head around and smiled at him. “Come on it’s lovely weather for a sleigh ride together with you!” He had a pair of mugs full of hot chocolate and topped with a little more whipped cream than was healthy in his hands as he walked in from the kitchen. He smiled sweetly and held up a mug. “Hot chocolate?”  
“Extra whipped cream?” He could see that it was, but he still liked to ask. Jean was great, he knew exactly how he liked everything and was so considerate and doting.   
“And little flakes of cinnamon to give it freckles, just like you, my freckled angel,” he replied, eliciting a giggle and a blush from the freckled boy. Jean really was wonderful, so he didn’t understand why him and Eren were always at each other’s throats. Marco had grown up thinking that his freckles made him look dirty and ugly, as if he had dirt on his face that he just couldn't wipe off, but Jean adored those freckles and taught him to start to love how he looked. Jean adored him and each freckle -he’d named each of them on a drunken night in after a party- and he also loved anything else with freckles because “they look like you!” It was adorable the way he carried on about how cute and lovable his freckles were that he just couldn’t hate them with how much Jean adored them. Sometimes being told how beautiful your imperfections are can help you start to see them in a new, more positive light.   
“Thanks,” he cooed and took the mug from Jean’s hand. The ceramic was warm to the touch and the whipped cream was melting into the hot chocolate due to the heat. Perfect. He smiled and sat on the couch, cupping it between his hands and taking a sip of the hot beverage and feeling the drink slide down and let warmth spread in its wake. It may be snowy and freezing outside, but inside the fire crackled calmly and the hot chocolate was warm and delicious. They may have to shovel the driveway and porch to help his parents come in, but that was not the issue of the moment, and besides, no worrying is allowed when you have a nice warm mug of hot chocolate in your hands. “It’s perfect, babe,” he praised, looking around when he got no answer. The bedroom light was on and filtering into the hall. Jean probably went to put on an extra layer; they both were freezing this winter. Another sip added more warmth, and he sighed in pleasure at the warm, pleasant feeling the hot beverage gave him. It was so sweet and delicious, and, coupled with it’s warmth, it easily was the best drink on the face of the Earth. The ultimate, perfect winter beverage.   
He smiled and looked at the tree, taking in the view of the half decorated pine. A few needles had fallen off from him fussing with branches while hanging ornaments, but the tree was still lush and vibrant as it freshened the house with its natural scent. He’d started at the top of the tree and had made his way to the middle so far, hanging the more breakable pieces up where kids and pets couldn’t reach while stuffed animal and plastic ornaments would hang at the bottom. He often invited family over, and he had a few nieces and nephews, and his cousin had a service dog with a talented tail. That dog’s tail had knocked a number of valued ornaments off before Marco decided to move to indestructibles, which worked out well when his sister had twins and the little ones were drawn to the pretty colors on the tree.   
He smiled and took a big drink from his mug, filling his mouth and letting it slowly slide down his throat, swallowing with an audible sigh of pleasure as the warm liquid slid down his throat and to his stomach, warming his core as it make it’s way down in a heated trail. So good. Jean always made the best drinks, hot or cold, virgin or alcoholic; it didn’t matter, he was always able to make an amazing drink no matter what he was trying to make. He jumped from his appreciation when a cold _something_ lightly tapped the top of his head. He looked up and blushed deeply when he saw the little piece of mistletoe Jean had in his hand hanging over Marco’s head.   
“There’s some rule about this, right,” Jean cooed in a false question. He knew the tradition, so the question was rhetorical and purely to make Marco blush even deeper at the insinuation. He gave Marco a big, brilliant smile and walked around to the front of the couch and sat beside him. “Now, I don’t know about you, but I don’t want to upset the Christmas Spirit by ignoring this tradition, do you?”  
“Jean,” he whined with a red face, clutching his mug of hot chocolate in his hands. Jean was a sweetheart, and he loved Marco, but Marco was just so shy and embarrassed about everything romantic. He got flustered and embarrassed insanely easily, so this reaction was expected. “I-I couldn’t!”  
“Course you can,” he cooed in reply. “‘Tis the season, my little freckled angel. Let’s be festive and make this,” he emphasized the word with a jiggle of the bundle in his hand above him, “our tradition that we indulge in.” His lover’s face was red and the mug had been moved to the coffee table to avoid his shaky hands from spilling it in his embarrassment. “Come on, just one little mistletoe kiss,” he pleaded, and Marco bit his lip shyly before leaning forwards and placing a soft, gentle kiss to his boyfriend’s lips before pulling back and blushing darkly, reaching for his hot chocolate and pulling his knees to his chest.   
“There! Happy?”  
“Extremely,” Jean cooed, kissing his angel’s cheek and smiling fondly as the blush only deepened in color.


	4. Mistletoe Story 4: Hanji/Erwin

The span between Halloween and January third was always hard. Work became stressful with the holiday seasons, and Hanji got a little too into the holiday spirit, especially at Christmas, which was somewhat amusing since she was an agnostic, making her really if-y on the whole “virgin Mary and birth of Christ” ordeal. Her biggest complaint usually stemmed from “why could Mary get pregnant and be a virgin if my family is cursed to ty and try and try to have a kid and fails ninety percent of the time?” Life is so unfair. Regardless of Hanji’s odd views on religion, she certainly enjoyed any excuse to be festive and celebrate. Christmas for them was less of a rejoice the lord and more of a rejoice their families. They both invite their families over for the holidays and have a big gathering, and Erwin couldn’t be more thankful that his family found Hanji endearing and charming in her own ways. He’d always worried that she would overwhelm them with her radical and unpredictable ways, so it was a load of stress off of him when they reacted much the same as he often did; they simply smiled, gave a soft chuckle, and humored her, finding her to be a bright and sweet woman. Hanji was no doctor, but she was brilliant in her own respectable field of science. She was as good as his parents would get, because Erwin was set for life with this one. She may not be a homemaker, but she was entertaining and endearing, and she’d be thrilled to bits to have a kid with him.   
Anyways, the fall-winter transition season was brutal. He worked more hours in the span of a fortnight during these weeks than he usually does over the course of a summer month, and that was mostly required overtime. Often the boss requires more help and forces staff to work late to make up all the extra work that needs to be done to make profit on these holiday months. It was exhausting, and, by the time he got home, he just ate dinner, took a shower, and passed out, but it made good money, so who was he to complain? Hanji may be no homemaker, but after a long day at work, he felt grateful to have a girlfriend who didn’t mind helping her zombie boyfriend to get some rest without messing anything up. She cooked and cleaned and let him go to bed without a goodnight kiss without any fuss. She understood, she herself often got into a groove of work and would run herself ragged to or beyond the point Erwin was and the roles would be reversed.   
She was an angel… most of the time. Still, Hanji was Hanji and that meant unpredictable and inexplicable actions. She would often get an idea on a whim and just roll with it to the ends of the earth, and that’s what she’d done this morning before he woke up. Whatever her idea was, he was not expecting to look out the kitchen window at the driveway and see her in her snow clothes, sticking _something_ , however whatever it may be he could not tell, to the back of his car rear window. It was barely morning; the sky was pink with sunrise and Hanji was dressed and out playing with his car. The only thought that crossed his mind was: “ _what now?_ ” He began to question other things after a moment, but at first his only question was about what Hanji was doing on _this_ whim. It couldn’t be above freezing outside, but she was out there, not a care in the world as she vandalized his car innocently.   
He groaned and set his coffee mug on the counter, pulled on a jacket and snow boots and tread out to her through the foot of snow. He could hear her humming Christmas tunes as he approached, her focus entirely on her task. Her breath wafted white in the air as she hummed and make little sing-song noises, and he gave a soft smile. She was too precious. “Hanji,” he called gently, and she whipped her head around at the noise. “What are you doing out here? It’s early and freezing.” She gave a sheepish smile.   
“I was decorating your car,” she giggled. In her hand was a sheet of window clings, many of the spots blank as their counterparts stuck to his rear window. Silly little pictures of santa, reindeer, gingerbread men, mistletoe, and little snowflakes littered the back of his car, covering the back window. It was cute and childish and he’d expect nothing less of his girlfriend. He gave a warm smile and took the sheet. He peeled a little mistletoe piece off and looked at it before smiling and sticking it to Hanji’s forehead with a soft laugh. Her eyes filled with confusion and lit up in delight when he kissed her.   
“Let’s get you out of the snow, you idiot.”


	5. Mistletoe Story 5 : Annie/Armin

He had no clue. He seriously had no clue. How’d she do it every night? He said he’d handle dinner tonight, but he had absolutely no idea what to make. He didn’t want to mess this up. He _couldn’t_ mess this up. She always cooked dinner and after all the stress she’d faced in the week at her retail job, he wanted to give her an evening to relax and read her book like she always complained that she didn’t have enough time to do. This was a chance for him to give her an evening to herself to relax. He couldn’t _not_ come up with something to make for dinner, but he couldn’t figure out what to make either.  
With a groan he accepted defeat and headed out into the living room where Annie was curled up on the couch with her book, a hot chocolate, and a blanket. The house was fairly barren, neither of them celebrate the holiday for one reason or another. They still went to the parties that their friends threw and enjoyed the decorations and lights that decorated the town, but personally, they didn’t celebrate in the traditional sense, but that was okay with them. They did the traditional giving of gifts and making cookies, and they spent the night in together. It was simple and sweet. They didn’t celebrate the holiday or anything but instead just took advantage of the holiday vacation days to spend time together. “Annie” he called as he walked in, coming up behind the couch and looking over the back of it down at her. She glanced up and raised an eyebrow. “What would you like for dinner? I can’t think of anything.”  
She gave a soft laugh and thumbed at a page in her book, licking her finger and flipping the page with the added stick. She’d read quite a bit in the hour and a half she’d be sitting on the couch after coming home, stripping, crawling into the bathtub, and getting resituated in her normal state of being after being so worn down from work. The holidays were awful in commercial retail for those that had to clean up and organize aisles and restock shelves. People got crazy this time of year and become beasts when shopping, making her have to clean up the disasters left in their wake and to assist braindead shoppers find what they said they wanted but really didn’t because they meant something else that they don't know the name of and is exactly the same as four other things. This time of year, he job consisted of opening shipment boxes, stocking shelves, cleaning up, and trying to help customers that required a game of twenty questions to find anything close to what they were looking for. Her coworker, Johnny, openly carried a handgun on his hip as a protective sidearm, and it was a wonder that she hadn’t stolen it and gone into the breakroom and shot herself yet. Put an antisocial in a job with consistent uncourteous, rude idiots who don’t know what they want but need to buy you to find it, and you’ve cooked up a recipe for disaster. Her only saving grace was that, like her, Armin liked the quiet and books, something she could either hide herself away with to recuperate or curl up to him and do together in a comfortable shared silence; peaceful and relaxing.  
She replied softly, voice sore from arguing with a manager on if she had adequately stocked something they were out of stock of. The reply was too soft for him to hear and he leaned down. “Sorry, tell me again, Annie,” he requested and was stunned when she pecked his cheek. It was a sudden and random display of affection and she looked at her book, indifferent to Armin’s shock.  
“Mistletoe,” she explained and cleared her throat as she started reading the page. “We have the stuff for tacos, that can work.” He blinked and straightened out. It was unlike her to suddenly kiss him like that. It was _really_ unlike her. He wasn’t going to complain, but, still, it was weird. Mistletoe. He glanced up in disbelief. They didn’t decorate for Christmas so why would there be mistletoe hanging there? There wasn’t. She had just said it as an excuse, meaning she had randomly felt the urge to kiss him… but then why give a false explanation like she was hiding something? He blinked in confusion and looked down at her. “What?”  
He hesitated as he stared at her. She looked like she was fine, but a look in her eyes said she was happy he was staying and paying attention to her, almost like she was lonely and wanted attention. In their house, there was no mistletoe, there was no Christmas, there was just a girl who wanted attention but was too brooding and antisocial to outright say it. “Want to go out to dinner?”  
She blinked and gave a soft smile, secretly thankful that he’d pieced the pieces together. “Sure, I’d like that.”


	6. Mistletoe Story 6: Reiner/Bertholdt

The station was always busy, people writing reports, delivering files, or dragging criminals into custody, it was rarely quiet and still in the station. Today was no exception. The halls and offices were busy and noisy and you couldn’t walk to the breakroom for a cup of coffee without stumbling into at least six people hurrying from one place to the next to do this or that. Welcome to Trost PD. Reiner had been working there for years with his partner, a rookie that did extremely well with handling people and was big enough to take down a criminal although he was a gentle giant, Bertholdt. Bertholdt was a little different from most policemen in the station, namely that he was a nervous thing. Reiner joked that the guy was scared of his own shadow, so whenever Bertholdt stepped up and got got physical with a suspect and faced confrontation head on, he was left a little speechless. It’s not that Bertholdt was a bad cop, he just didn’t like playing the “bad cop” role. He liked helping people not being a bully and taking down criminals with brute force. Bertholdt was an amazing cop when he was comforting victims or helping shaken up families file reports on a break in, but he also knew when he had to step up and do the things he didn’t like doing but that needed to be done. He may be a nervous wreck, nut he was a damn fine cop and a good friend as far as Reiner was concerned.   
“Hey Bert,” his hand landed heavily on the wood of the door to his partner’s office as he knocked on the open door held out by the kickstand. Bertholdt liked to keep his office open, inviting people in to passively chat or hand him reports and files circulating teams and groups they regarded. The gentle giant jolted and looks up rapidly at his partner standing in the open doorway. He never did anything wrong, but he always had this kind of look that reminded Reiner of a kid that was nervous about getting caught doing something wrong; nothing sinister but nervous and guilty nonetheless. “We need to head down to Trost Elementary for that career day presentation, remember?”   
“Y-yes! I was a-actually about t-to come find you! Let’s get going,” he replied, standing up and grabbing his personal effects that he’d set on the table to make sitting at his desk for long hours easier. Bertholdt hadn’t remembered. Reiner could tell. He knew Bertholdt long enough to tell when his nervous little stutters were general anxiety or attempts to cover up that he’s thinking of what to say next now that he’s been put on the spot. Bertholdt was actually a really good improviser, able to come up with logical and good ideas and excuses on the fly. He’d be a great liar if his tells weren’t so obvious. When honest and calm, his stutters were usually at the start of a new sentence or around touchy words and phrases and he looked you dead in the eye. When lying or making an excuse, his stutters were all over the place, usually around new parts of a sentence that add more information, and he looked at his hands as he fussed with something in order to avoid eye contact in a “normal” manner. The good thing was that most people didn’t know him well enough to pick up on those tells and he usually got by just fine without anyone calling him on his BS. The again, no one really ever called him on it anyways. Reiner frequently noticed when he lied and rarely said a word to show acknowledgement of the little fibs. Perhaps it was because they were simple coverups to hide his flaws? He was forgetful, most nervous people are, and he didn’t want to seem incompetent, so he fibbed a little to make it seem like he remembered things he didn’t really, and that was fairly harmless. Why call him out on that and put him down when he’s likely ridiculing himself in his head anyways?   
“Great,” he replied and kicked the stand to release the door so he could shut it when they left. He watched as his partner put his stuff in his pockets and grabbed his jacket off the wall. He held the door open and let him shut up and lock his office before they headed out to the squad car so they could show the little kids what the inside of a police car looked like, same as the fire department and paramedics did. They loved to crawl around in the back seat and giggled that they were criminals; it was really cute. “We don’t need to be there for another half hour, but being early is always best.” Bertholdt nodded in agreement and led the way out to the squad car, grabbing the keys and climbing into the driver's seat with Reiner following his lead.   
When they climbed in, they went through the usual routine of getting buckled and checking settings and- did Reiner just _kiss_ him?! Yes, yes he did. His lips moved soft and gentle on his own, and Bertholdt’s heart stopped. He had always liked Reiner, but he could _never, ever_ have brought himself to be the macho man and hit on his partner. He just couldn’t; he was too damn shy and nervous. If he tried, it would be a royal disaster, truly one for the history books, but he didn’t have to it seemed. Reiner had made the first move, and when the blonde pulled away, he gave an uncomfortable cough and gestured to a little piece of mistletoe hanging on the rearview mirror. “I -uh- mistletoe. Candy must have gotten into everyone’s squad cars and -erm- _decorated_.”   
“God bless Candy,” he replied and pulled him close and kissed him back with a beet red face, a happy smile, a racing heart, and shaking hands, but that was okay to Reiner.


	7. Finals

Hey guys, sorry for being behind, schoolhas been kicking my butt and finals are next week so I’ll try to get done chapters when I have free time but understand that I have a lot of prep for finals to get done first.


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